


50 Shades of Bernie Wolfe

by queenberena



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenberena/pseuds/queenberena
Summary: 50 one shots, each based upon a colour.Mainly Berena, but some colours may explore Bernie's past life in the military.





	1. Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Each one shot will be based about a colour, or perhaps pattern if I run out of ideas.  
> First one shot technically isn't a proper colour, but I had no other ideas and wanted to get this up before tonight's episode as its sort of my take on the ending of Brave New World.  
> I hope the format turns out okay. Posting from my iPad.

Rainbow 

 

_"I kissed you because I wanted to, and beyond that I wasn't really thinking. I can see how uncomfortable the whole thing is making you, so I think we should toast our undeniable sexual chemistry and say no more about it_. _"_

 

Her fingertips shuddered with light trembles, a reflection of internal nerves bubbling to the surface. She deposited the wine glass back on the desk, droplets of the dark liquid swirling haphazardly in beautiful ripples. The subtle hums of concurs fading as she listened to the rambles of Bernie. Gradually drowning out the words, trying to replace them with mustered courage from overwhelming thoughts.

 

And then their hands grazed together again, the skin contact alive with impulses of lust and desire. Lingering. Serena grasped the glass, quickly placing it beside her own on the desk. It was now _or_ never.

 

Serena launched to the edge of her chair, fingertips momentarily curled around the cushioned material of the seat. Tenderly, she brushed the silky pad of her index finger against Bernie's lips, silencing her. So soft and delicate to touch. Reminiscent of her own lips colliding against them. Tasting the electric and delicious flavours for the very first time.

Their eyes looked up and engaged. Locked with a hungry desire. Slowly, enveloped by the intensifying moment, the gap between them grew smaller. Closer and closer. They could hear each others raspy breathing, preparing for the impending. Warm air they respired with every breath suffocating their skin. Until their lips finally pressed together with a gracious tingle.

 

"Serena-" Bernie's voice was thick, her breath stolen by the heart fluttering kiss that had taken her stoic front by surprise.

 

"No, Bern." Gently, she sincerely shakes her head, "I don't agree. I don't want to forget it ever happened." Her assertive voice had been stripped to a naked whisper that flickered flames of vulnerability all the way to her dark eyes.

 

She swallowed thickly and blinked, hands interlaced in her lap as she helplessly fiddled with her fingers as a distraction while she husked apprehensively, "Do you think that's wise?"

 

Serena jerked her shoulders, gazing with potent covet. Noting how the last rays of the setting sun dazzled in beams through the window and enhanced the beautiful golden hues of the army medic's wide pupils. "I want this. Us. I really want to give us a go."

 

"But...me and my messy divorce. You, a dyed-in-the-wool heterosexual..."

 

"I know you are just saying this because it's what you feel you are obliged to say. This is new for me-" Brushed away matter-of-factly. Serena drained the remains of her shiraz in a gulp.

 

"You wished death upon yourself because of _our_ kiss. I can't, I'd never..." Bernie's honey curls ebbed at her jaw as she shook her head, unable to express and suitably organise the cluttered thoughts spiralling through her head like a twister. "I value our friendship too much to risk loosing everything."

 

"I _was_ terrified. I _am_ terrified. _You_ terrified me!" The brunette exclaimed with honesty, pursing her lips momentarily, "And it's taken me all day to try and figure out how to tell you my thoughts. What else can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants."

 

Bernie ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips, extending a friendly arm so she could take hold of Serena's hand in her own tender palm. "I thought you'd want some space...I mean, it's great and I _am_ happy. I just felt it was the responsible thing to do, take a step back and allow you to breathe. It's a _big_ thing." A nervous grin twitched at her features, sparkly and pure.

 

"Understatement." Serena dryly chuckled, the pad of her thumb tracing a circular pattern over the blonde's knuckles, "It's going to take time.."

 

"We can take things as slowly as you like." A heartfelt promise. "Work will be strictly professional and entirely separate to our personal lives."

 

"And here I am breaking my very own rule. I've lost count of how many F1's I've told not to mix work and pleasure." She paused shortly, snickering inwardly. "Serena Campbell - lesbian, does have quite a ring to it doesn't it?"

 

Bernie gave a squeaky snort of a chuckle that ribboned into a husky laugh, "It does..hey, don't hide because you're blushing!" She watched Serena dip her head as a rosy mantle glazed her cheeks, "I can ensure you that I will make you blush plenty of times if you're with me." The wolfish smirk graced her lips as she inclined forward to whisper in her ear.

 

"It sounds like you've just set yourself a challenge!"

 

"I'm always ready for a challenge. I was _born_ ready."

 

Serena inhaled deeply and blew out a breath, "I've always stuck to black and white. Stuck the the rules of what is expected. But maybe it's time for me to step outside my textbook lead comfort zone. Experience life in colour. Because, I think life could be a beautiful _rainbow_ with you, Bernie Wolfe."

 

A calm, reassuring smile greeted her words as the trauma surgeon nodded, "Shall we go elsewhere? Somewhere less professional." Boundaries were crucial in these initial stages.

 

"Lead the way." Serena nodded, her fingertips grazing at the collar of her crisp white shirt, "I want to get to know more of you." She murmured seductively in her ear with a coy smirk.


	2. Dark Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After watching the Autumn trailer and the preview for 27.09.16 as well as some older episodes, this piece of writing happened. May contain spoilers.

Dark Violet

 

_Dark Violet; a sensual colour of desire yet with hints of nerves._

 

"Running away isn't the solution. Running won't fix anything. We have unfinished business. We _need_ to talk." Serena side stepped towards the office door assertively, obstructing the mental route she knew her friend was rehearsing as an escape.

 

With a grumble, the blonde heavily flopped onto the wood of her desk. Arms crossed defensively. She glanced towards the window, muttering internally at the inconvenience of AAU's location. Why couldn't the ward have been on ground level? "Don't do this. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I leave for Ukraine today."

 

"I...I wouldn't imagine standing in your way. It sounds like your dream job. I, er, I'm not _that_ selfish." The words were a meek murmur, timid ramblings that did not represent the joyous congratulating front she strived to put on. Pretending to be happy and encouraging.

 

Who was she kidding?

 

Sighing, she hastily added, "Please don't take that placement Bern!"

 

"Serena-"

 

The caution was unwisely skipped, the brunette stubbornly persisting. "Believe it or not, I have fallen in love before. I do recognise the symptoms"

 

"Please, stop." Bernie bounded back to her feet, apprehensively pacing the length of the confined room as she pulled her fingers through her tousled hair. Her tone was desperate. Solicit yet braced as she blinked.

 

"I want to give this a go." Serena was in full flow. Perils weighed, she elected the raw expose voluntarily. A proffer to keep the trauma surgeon, and gamble her heart for the absent passion.

 

"You and I. I've been trying to decipher how to confide my own feelings. Find my inner gallantry, as it were...I didn't want to simply toast to our undeniable sexual chemistry, I _wanted_ to kiss you! But I thought forgetting was what you wanted."

 

Her wittering trailed to an end, replaced with a sudden kick of tension in the form of a nervous laugh.

 

Groaning mutedly, Bernie's pupils darted fretfully. The conversation she had aimed to evade was happening. And she was forced to react. Coolly, she murmured her sincere justifications.

 

"I said that because I felt it was the honourable things to do. I made you uncomfortable. I hoped to avoid the awkwardness my rash _emotional_ actions impended. Of course I like you! I don't kiss my colleagues out of habit; we have a connection. And I'm _so_ thankful for all you've done for me."

 

"Then don't accept the placement!" Curt and solemn. Serena wasn't entirely sure whether she was intending to convince herself or Bernie anymore.

 

"I have to."

 

"No, no. You don't _have_ to-" The fear glinted all the way to the opaque fizz of her beautiful cocoa eyes, manner beginning to abjure foilingly.

 

"I do." Bernie gave a sad nod. Low, muted and thick. "You said you wished death upon yourself because of our kiss. I terrified you. I can't have that effect on you and unreservedly live with it. I have colossal respect for you, and care deeply. I _need_ to go."

 

"It was just talk in the heat of the moment, I didn't mean it. I've never had these feelings before - for another woman. I still _am_ terrified; but that doesn't have to be something negative. I think it fuels the adrenaline of the unknown..the zealous lust and desire. I never said I didn't like the kiss, in fact it was quite the opposite.."

 

Blowing out a breath she didn't even realise she'd been holding, Bernie slumped into her swivel chair. Serena's cheeks and the very tips of her ears were reddening with fluster. They were both desperate; yet for completely different reasons.

 

"You deserve better than a screw up like me, Serena." She sighed deeply, tucking her hair behind her ears and ran the edge of her tongue over her dry lips.

 

"Bernie, you are far from that. Don't you dare classify yourself as that _ever_ again." Serena descended onto the desk in front of the other woman, her voice much more delicate and subtly sober.

 

"You have your flaws and imperfections, but don't we all? That's what life's experiences do to us all. I think you are just someone who has had a shit time and merits some special attention and love. And who needs to stop pushing people away."

 

The blonde glanced up, lines visibly creasing her features with strain. Her first confession followed, sketchy and quiet. "I thought it would be easier to bury the hatchet and ignore my feelings rather than risk hurting you, loosing you. However, ignoring them is proving a little trickier than I imagined."

 

"Then talk to me." A kind, coaxing smile graced her lips. "I'm listening, and I'll stay for however long it takes. We're both adults here, and I think we both know that it's time we start being fully honest with each other. Work with me here, Bern."

 

Honesty, no matter how brutal, wasn't an ask; it was a must. Heart to hearts were never Bernie's forte. In fact, she had devoted her life to cowardly dodge participating.

 

But now she had been placed on the spot, albeit loathingly.

 

Permitting her defensive barriers to subside was an internal bawl. To let people in, shatter those thick well-maintained walls of complex feelings and emotions that were bottled. But Serena had openly placed her heart on the line, and the soldier in her knew it was only fair she located the confidence to reciprocate. Serena Campbell deserved the truth.

 

"We could be here a while. You know how hopeless I am at emotions." It was a throaty chuckle, the former army medic trying to lighten the mood.

 

"You're worth waiting for, Ms Wolfe."

 

Long eyelashes, curled with coats of the finest jet black mascara fluttered as the consultant blinked. Exquisite and classy. They complimented and enhanced the natural pigments and sparkle of her eyes.

 

Bernie focused on the alluring dazzle momentarily before her gaze drifted into the distance. Black dots glided through the crisp autumn skies, birds dancing and swirling with the breeze. Crunchy leaves in amber and rust twirled from the trees in the horizon, spiralling haphazardly to the floor in gusts.

 

"I forever envision how wonderful life could be. If only I was daring and reckless enough."

 

"Life can be magnificent enough if you approve. The what ifs will be what kill you. You only get one chance to live, who gives a damn what anyone else thinks? It all starts here."

 

Serena sited a heavy hand on her heart, continuing with her wise words of rectitude. "Leave the past behind and consider this a fresh start. You've survived for years in a war zone, that takes some extreme guts and courage. I couldn't do it. You are one of the bravest, most admirable people I know."

 

"Please, stop with the compliments. You'll make me blush, and as if I don't feel on fire enough as it is with these inner conflicting feelings." The curl to the blonde's lips was shy, chin instantly dipping and releasing her wild curls from neatly behind her ears to clock her ears.

 

Next a confession followed. A lulled, subdued murmur. "Bernie is no where near as brave and fearless as Major Wolfe. Surgery I can be brave in, domestic life not so much."

 

There was a vulnerable edge to the trauma surgeon. Her breaths were marginally heavier, attempting to maintain a controlled grip on her stoic composure. It was getting more personal now.

 

Serena appreciated that it was taking some nerve for her to freely display the real spirits that were always smothered and shielded within her respective layers. Peeling them away was a challenge - one Serena Campbell eagerly rose to and was going to prevail.

 

Silently, in support and optimistic encouragement, the brunette caressed simple circles with her fingertips on Bernie's knee. An innocent gesture that made the blonde's heart skip a beat and skin tickle in a sensual manner.

 

"How can I accept the wonderful opportunity of a fresh start. Here, with _you_. When I'm scared of letting myself fall in love again. I _am_ falling in love again. And it frightens me and the only thing I know how to do is self destruct. _Run_. There, I've said it."

 

Bernie blew out a sigh, hazel eyes fixated with the carpet that lined the floor. Short fingernails dug into her jean clad legs, imprinting tiny half-moon shapes into her thighs.

 

"Why?" Serena blurted out without much thought, briskly expanding apologetically. "Sorry - but I don't quite understand. Can you enlighten me?" Supple, smooth implores.

 

"I'll only mess things up. It's better this way, saves the heartache. I can't risk the pain _again_. And the thought of hurting you-" Her locks frame her face as she shakes her head. "I ruined things with Marcus..Alex..no doubt it's only a matter of time before you as well. History does have a habit of repeating itself. I'm just trying to protect you because I'm a domestic disaster. And technically, I am still married until the divorce clears..."

 

Different patterns twirled from the tips of silky fingers, still stroking consolingly at Bernie's knee. Serena's expression was gracefully soothing, and she wasn't ready to give up yet. Both women had mirroring stubborn reputations - they were going to have to meditate and discover the happy medium.

 

"I think I'm old enough not to require someone to guard my heart. Thanks for the consideration all the same, but I'm willing to take the risk."

 

Bernie was exhausted. Emotionally _and_ physically. Although she would never confess, recent events had left her unable to switch off at night, burdened with taunting replays. Hallucinations of what she could be with Serena. Worries of the bitter crossroads with her soon to be ex. And this draining chat - _the honesty_ \- exhibited no sign of completion.

 

Lips pursed, she basked the quiet. Forced to address her real feelings. And it was time to divulge. No more hiding, no more denying.

 

"This is new to me too. And, although I may not show it, I am finding it equally difficult."

 

"But Alex?"

 

She blinked, brows puckered perplexedly, humming her own question. "What about _her_?"

 

Fine lines creased Serena's forehead and she ran her hand over her cropped hair. She spoke tentatively, gently prompting. "She's female..I've never been more than friends with a woman before." She jerked her shoulders. "Or is this your way of trying to tell me that all Alex and you shared was also just a kiss?"

 

Bernie suppressed a dry laugh. "Oh, I can assure you that I have done more than just kiss Alex."

 

The blonde rocked on her heels, propping her elbows on her knees as she absorbed her face into the palms of her hands fleetingly and inhaled a trembling breath.

 

She began slowly, trying to elaborate on how she was feeling. Her point of view. "It would be different with us - or at least I hope."

 

Thoughts twisted back to the latter of her army days. Reminiscing the relevant. How hers and Alex's relationship was strictly forbidden. There was never the jeopardy of it ever really going anywhere. It was highly secretive. No risk or fears of feeling _broken_.

 

Those special moments of feelings were shared, but would evaporate soon after arriving. Because, then, it was time to concentration and refocus on the job in hand. The next casualties of war were imminent. Traumas, IEDs. There was no place for feelings out in the field. A minor lapse in attention could have fatal consequences. _Death_. The situations were nearly always life or death.

 

"Now...I have too much spare time to think through details, those dangerous what ifs. There are no photos of Alex and I; no black and white evidence that we ever existed. In time, the memories will probably fade. And that's what hurts the most."

 

She swallowed thickly. A single bead of sweat rolled from the back of her neck, vanishing beneath her blouse as it trickled down her sticky skin.

 

Serena gave a small nod that was acknowledged by Bernie as a cue to continue.

 

"I'd want their to be pictures. I don't want to hide because I'm not ashamed. Initially, I obviously understand the need for confidentiality and for things to remain discrete. But eventually, as our confidence escalates and we grow together, I'd like to think we could enter a public lesbian relationship."

 

"Then that's what shall happen, in our own time. When we're both ready." Her smile is kind and genuine, a reinforcement of concur. "I'm sorry. I never speculated things greatly from your point of view, I didn't take into account that, in aspects, this is new and difficult for you also."

 

"It would take too long. I can't burden you with that."

 

"You already have. I'm in knee deep. I've already fallen _in_ love with you." Serena murmured honestly, a light bubble of list bursting though the sentence. Glittering with hope. "I accept the challenges that accompany you. And we're going to battle them together, if you'll let me..."

 

Bernie tilted her head. The warm hues of the office lighting made her unblemished skin glow, tangled curls ebbing at her jawline and her messy fringe falling over her face so perfectly. Her eyes were dark, brimful with a sensual charisma that glittered lust.

 

The brunette's lips were quirked into a polished smile that was deeply comforting, eyes burning with a hungry lust. Sultry. Their fingers were interlaced, locked together in such a natural motion, palms slightly clammy from the intensity of the moment.

 

The last of Bernie's naked vulnerabilities were dripping away, replaced with something pure and honest from the heart. A small, nervous smile graced her features; elegant and pretty in all her glory. Her eye makeup had smudged with the stresses of the day but she was still as alluring as ever.

 

In effortless sync, the gap between them closed. The blonde's hand instinctively reached up, stroking the silky skin of Serena's cheek. Hooded eyes fixed with desire, the visual contact only broke as their lips brushed together and their eyelids fluttered shut in union.

 

Soft, tender, feathery tickles that amplified in magnitudes, teasing moans of pleasure rewarded for the playful nips at lower lips and their tongues swirled with blissful delight. Serena's fingers twisted into the roots of honey blonde locks, fingernails digging contently into her scalp. While Bernie pulled them closer, pressing their upper bodies together skilfully, her own fingers looped in the short hairs at the nape of her fellow's surgeon's neck.

 

Rustic flavours of rich coffee beans, hints of tobacco combined with subtle traces of vanilla. Their senses were exposed to the wild intoxicants of each other. Sweet perfume. Cigarettes and peppermint chewing gum. A lingering taste of last night's expensive shiraz...

 

They were breathless from the passion of the kiss. Serena's voice was raspy and thick as she hummed.

 

"No more running?"

 

"No more running." Bernie husked and breathed out with an adorable little grin, "I'll stay. As much as a wonderful opportunity Hanssen has offered, this is significantly more important to me."


	3. Midnight Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Berena one-shot. Mention of PTSD, nothing too deep though.

  
Midnight Blue

 

The sparkle of the shiny stars that garnished the midnight blue skies were swallowed away, chased and veiled by the shadows of ominous clouds wafting in from the west. Air is suffocating with humidity, laying heavy and thick in the atmosphere as the scent of imminent rain brews. Dark, sweet and heady.

 

Glinting fiercely through the gap in the curtains, the initial bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. A hazy gold that combined with the faltering light of flickering street lamps tinted the town bronze.

 

It's drizzling now. With a low rumble of thunder growling in the horizon, the fuzzy raindrops start to intensify and crackle against the roof and windows. Until the rain is hammering into a hail, crunching and snapping harshly.

 

The heavy patter wakes Bernie from her placid slumber. She shuffled in the crisp unfamiliar sheets, messy blonde curls splayed across the feather pillows and her long limbs entangled in the linen. For a few seconds, her distorted head forget where she was.

 

And then she remembered; Serena's spare room. The brunette had insisted that's where she retired for the night, far too intoxicated to safely go home at such an unsociable hour. She hadn't objected, peeling herself from her jeans and shirt and slipping into the cool covers.

 

Bernie sighed contently. Eyelids fluttering shut, she listened to the beat of the rain outside. It was relaxing and tranquil. While she was toasty in her cosy bed. The rain was something she had taken for granted, years out in the desert without a single drop of the refreshing nature permitted her to savour these moments.

 

It was peaceful. Perfect to lull her back to sleep.

 

Or _not_.

 

Rumbling booms roll over the landscape, insolently disrupting the silence of nightfall.

 

She tensed. Muscles strained and tightened, her piercing eyes wide and amplified. And she was no longer enveloped in the soft sheets, instead plunged for safety beneath the frame of the bed. Her breaths were heavy and raspy, amber pupils fizzled with fear as she rocked on her heels, arms clamped firmly around her knees that hugged her chest.

 

Because, she was no longer in the midst of a thunderstorm. Rather, her mind, had re-entered the gunfire of a combat zone. Soldier instincts prominent; to take cover.

 

Serena stirred with a start, curtly yanked from her slumber by the next clap of deep, throaty thunder, directly above head. The thunderstorm had heightened briskly.

 

A steak of hot silver splits the sky. But to Bernie, it represents another explosion in the distance, flames ribboning and coiling upwards into smoke.

 

She can't smell the humid rain. Instead, her nostrils are tickled by citrus notes that fill the air, sourced from the candle that made the room feel warm despite the bitter storm outside.

 

However, the subtle glow of gold from the flickering frame isn't appreciated. Serena squinted, groaning groggily. Her head was fuzzy and pounding, mouth parched and stale. The starting symptoms of a doomed hangover.

 

And Bernie Wolfe was _definitely_ to blame.

 

She had invited the blonde over after their shift, volunteering to cook for them both. Jason was away for the night and she'd desired some exquisite company. However, her supply of shiraz was completely dry subsequent to the last time Bernie had come round. And, fatefully, she was yet to replenish.

 

Bernie had driven straight from the hospital, so hadn't saved the day by coming equipped with a house warming drink. But she had raided Serena's spirit collection and offered to compose some alcoholic drinks.

 

Or, a more accurate description, the general surgeon had concluded: Bernie had mixed up her own experimental concoctions.

 

They were quite delicious. And strong. Generous sloshes of liqueurs had been blended to create zesty and tangy, with a high booze content.

 

The perfect recipe for a guaranteed hangover.

 

One hand caressed at the beating ache that rippled through her head before shielding her eyes as she clumsily extended the other arm and reached for the lamp switch. Click. Wearily, she squinted in preparation for the newly sourced flood of light she anticipated as her hand shifted. Though all she was greeted with was the hazy burn of the wispy flame, hot wax trickling down the side of the candle and gathering at the bottom of the glass jar.

 

With a disdainful grunt, the brunette ungracefully shifted and hurled herself to her feet whilst cursing beneath her breath. Fumbling, she shrugged her silk robe around her frame and tentatively grasped the smouldering candle.

 

It would have to do as a makeshift torch, for now. At least until she treaded her way down the stairs. Serena wished she had listened to her nephew's wise advice of keeping a torch in her bedside table for emergencies. Those thoughts were quickly discarded, her need for water to hydrate and pain pills focusing her for the cautious descend downstairs.

 

The cold water was refreshing against her arid throat and Serena gulped down two full glasses and swallowed the tablets. It was the primary steps in attempting to reduce the severity of the imminent hangover, if not cure it. After all, an alcohol induced headache was medically dehydration.

 

The thunder began subsiding after seven long minutes, the crashes echoing into the distances. Bolts of lightning can still be witnessed, striking and highlighting the velvet darkness of midnight blue for miles around. The hail reduced back to a steady tapping of splashing raindrops.

 

Serena padded back up the stairs, guided by the pale glow of the candle. A strangled tremor of a muffled sob impaled the silence, and caused her to pause. She twisted, glancing towards the door that concealed the source. _Bernie_.

 

Her breath accumulated in the back of her throat, and, hesitantly, she knocked on the door. With no answer, she curled her fingertips around the cool metal of the handle and pressed down.

 

Through the faint glitter of yellow-orange, hazily blended with dusky shadows, the brunette quickly established that crumpled sheets were vacant. A jagged inhale of breath guided Serena to drop to her knees, peering through the smoky light the vague outline of a huddled silhouette was just visible.

 

"Bernie?"

 

Lenient and soft, the brunette's voice hummed through the air. She blinked, the heavy fog that hampered her head already starting to clear as she channelled her focus to assessing the situation carefully.

 

Freezing, the figure acted temporarily paralysed with fear, and she sharply twisted so her back faced Serena. The trauma surgeon was desperate to regain her stoic composure, terrified of someone witnessing her vulnerabilities. Judging her weaknesses. _Assuming_. And the questioning and prying that would follow.

 

Deep breaths. Long slow inhales and exhales. She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat. Her voice was cowed and passive despite her attempts of confidence, words no more than a mumbled utter. Those dark marble eyes still wide and opaque, ears pricked for residues of the responsible storm.

 

"I'm _fine_."

 

"You are not fine...come on Bern."

 

Serena blew out a nervous laugh, reaching out cautiously to rest her hand against the small of her back, silky pad of her thumb stroking a circular motion on her spine.

 

"It's.... _nothing_."

 

She murmured. And suddenly, Bernie had somehow managed to regain control of her breathing. After six proper concentrated breathes, regulating the saturation of her lungs to something resembling relatively stable. The crushing sensation around her breathing organs was pushed away, the wheezy respiration lulled into quiet inhalation through her nostrils and parted lips blowing out.

  
  
"I am not one of your subordinates. You are not going to just push me away. It's obviously something."

 

They sat in silence, listening to the soothing patter of light rain in the warm hues of candlelight. Serena, laid on her front with her head propped up, observed the steadying rise and fall of Bernie's chest.

 

Seven minutes had passed since the last rumble of thunder and the army medic's muscles were beginning to loosen at the comfort of the storm departing. With a sigh, she shuffled and turned to face her, lips pursed.

 

"Thunderstorms."

 

A one word confession. Wasn't it obvious? Bernie's eyes flickered, purposely evading direct contact. Her right hand played subconsciously with the short hairs at the nape of her neck, mentally preparing for the conversation ahead.

 

She was wishing she hadn't diluted the neat spirits so much now; perhaps stronger vodka and whiskey would have knocked her out for the duration of the night, sleeping through the thunderstorm.

 

"Ah." Serena gave a small nod, "You don't like them?"

 

Her eyes trailed the blonde's beautiful toned body. The shadows and contrast of taunt muscles, her long legs and subtle curves. Dark eclipses at the valley of her breasts, pooling in the rivets of her razor sharp collar bones. Mixed with highlight.

 

"Never used to care...It reminds me of the gunfire now."

 

Bernie twitched her shoulders into a shrug and expanded into the insights and realities of war zones. Immersed by visions of the war, the aftermaths of those awful targeted bombs. The people who's injuries were to severe to save, the corpses' she'd had to pronounce dead at the scene.

 

Not just her own troops; the innocent civilians caught in the bullets and explosions.

 

"Never had time to think about it before, no sooner had you finished one patient, it was time to refocus on the next. Emotions are best left out of the field. That was my _life_. But now... _now_ I have a lot of time on my hands."

 

The laugh that followed was slightly bitter and nervous, amber pupils wandering helplessly.

 

"Have you spoken to anyone about this?"

 

Serena tilted her head to one side, words spoken thoughtfully and sensitively. She appreciated her courage to confide deeply, and now it was her turn to try and offer some advice.

 

"What? Like a shrink? No thanks."

 

It was a blunt retort, accompanied with a sour scoff.

 

"No..." Serena sighed and shook her head, "No, of course not. You spent years out in war zones, and your dedication and bravery is highly admirable. But it is completely understandable and natural for it to have effected you. It's very common. And, in all honesty, I would be very surprised if you didn't have a form of PTSD, albeit potentially very mild."

 

"Thanks for the diagnosis. Although, if I wanted to hear that, I'd have asked."

 

She bit her tongue, instantly regretting the hostility that edged her manner and coldness, and sincerely apologised as her fingers tangled in her tousled curls and teased out a knot.

 

Serena dismissed the outburst, her expression creased with concern while she continued the skin contact of tracing patterns with the tips of her fingers.

 

"Has this happened before?"

 

Bernie blinked, hooded eyes veiled by her messy fringe. She contemplated her response, the very tip of her tongue running along the edge of her dry lips. Thinking was painful effort, the fuzzy mist of alcohol influences was clouding again now the adrenaline that pumped her veins was fading.

 

"Um..once _or_ twice maybe. I can't remember. It hasn't happened for a long time. My kids were young, my marriage _wasn't_ in pieces."

 

That's _all_ she could remember.

 

"Been fortunate enough not to experience any more thunderstorms back here. Until now."

 

"Well, I guess we will have to find a way to help you deal with this. On the bright side, this storm has passed. So, do you fancy coming out from under here now? It's not very comfy I must admit."

 

It was too dark for the rosy mantle that blushed the apples of Bernie's cheeks to be visible. With a sheepish nod, they both emerged from beneath the bed frame.

 

"Sorry, I've disturbed your nights sleep! I'm fine now, you can go back to bed."

 

"The thunder did that, not you." She assured, "Do you think you'll go back to sleep?"

 

Shaking her head, the blonde sighed. She knew sleep wasn't going to happen.

 

"No...I, uh, I'll probably try and get on with some paperwork or something productive. To take my mind of things."

 

"Good luck with that! We have no power."

 

Serena chuckled and a genuine, although small, smile lit up the trauma surgeon's features. Her plump lips curling upwards and those cute dimples of her cheeks when she smiled.

 

"Anyway, I don't know about you but I can say for myself that I have one hell of a headache..."

 

"Mm, I _do_ have a hangover starting. Best go drink some water, try to dilute the drink in my system."

 

"What did you put in those drinks?!"

 

Serena's lips swirled into a rich laugh, Bernie grinning a mischievous smirk that sparkled deep into her eyes and she cleared her throat. Sucking in her lips momentarily, her eyebrows arced and disappeared beneath the honey strands of her fringe.

 

"Well, I don't exactly remember-"

 

Bernie frowned in deep thought before she dissolved into youthful giggles, the fine lines of laughter creasing her expression. The brunette's eyes rolled, not entirely surprised she couldn't recall. Though she was certain those concoctions contained simply shots of juice opposed to a splash of liquor.

 

"Right, we are never running out of shiraz again! Come back to my bed, you don't have to be on your own. I'll keep you company until you do fall back asleep."


End file.
